The Devil Went Down To Georgia
by Omness
Summary: When a demon is hungry, what will he do to obtain a delicious soul? Make a deal of course, but can he compare to this man's violin skills? songfic.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or the song The Devil Went Down To Georgia  
**

**The Deal**

_The Devil went down to Georgia; he was looking for a soul to steal._

A demon was idly floating over the country of England in an incorporeal form. He was looking for a soul to eat, when he got a whiff of something good.

_He was in a bind 'cause he was way behind and was willin' to make a deal._

The demon had not eaten in a long time and the delicious aroma only flared his hunger, but there was a problem. The soul's body was still living, and the only to get a living human's soul was through a contract, though that wouldn't be too much of a difficulty, as he had ways of dealing with puny humans.

_When he came across this young man sawin' on a fiddle playin' it hot and the devil jumped upon a hickory stump and said, boy let me tell you what_

The demon found the source of the scent; it was an adult man. He was playing the violin alone in a mansion room. Silently, the demon became substantial in a chair across from the sitting man, filling up the area around him with a dark fog. The man had his eyes closed, absorbed in the music. Patiently, the demon waited. When the man was done he placed the violin and bow in his lap, holding it there, then opened his eyes.

For a moment, the demon's mind reeled. Normally when he encountered humans they shied away in fear and avoided looking at his red eyes. Not this human, he looked him straight in the eye, without fear. The demon noticed for the first time the air of confidence around the man. The confidence of one who knew he was in control.

"I've been waiting for you." The man said quietly.

A thought crossed the demon's mind, had he been tricked somehow? He quickly erased the notion, this human was nothing compared to his power.

_I guess you didn't know it but I'm a fiddle player too. And if you'd care to take a dare, I'll make a bet with you. Now you play a pretty good fiddle boy, but give the devil his due. I bet a fiddle of gold against your soul 'cause I think I'm better than you._

Ignoring the man's lack of fear, the demon laid down a bet.

"I have a preposition for you human." He began, "I'll give you a violin made of gold if you can beat me in a violin playing contest, but if you lose…" The demon gave a smile that would make men shiver, even if they couldn't see it. "I get your soul."

_The boy said: Well my name's Johnny and it might be a sin, but I'll take your bet you're gonna regret, 'cause I'm the best that's ever been._

The handle of the door rattled, as if someone was trying to get in, but it was locked. This oddly made the demon uneasy, and the idea of being tricked came up again. What the human did next didn't help the demon at all.

The man smiled and said, "I'll make a deal with you, but instead of a gold violin I have a request."

The demon leaned forward, interested in what the man had to say. Occasionally a demon would serve a master until the conditions of the contract were filled, but he planned to get the man's soul with a simple and quick bet.

"My wife and I are expecting a child soon." The man smiled tenderly at the thought of his family, "And I know God won't let me live a full and happy life for what I've done, but I don't want my innocent child to be left orphaned and poor. So once I die you must become my child's servant. Become a butler that makes sure the child lives as the lord he was born as."

The demon agreed to the terms easily, he was an amazing violinist. No human could compete with his ability.

"Now we must form the contract," the demon explained, getting up and walking towards the man, "There will be a mark on your body that is the seal to the contract, and it will disappear once the bet is over." Promptly, they were both covered in the fog that surrounded the demon, and in that never ending darkness something flickered in the man's eyes. Whether it was fear or determination was neither here nor there.

The demon gently touched the human, who gasped in pain while the mark appeared and flashed a bright purple. It was a star trapped in a circle made of points, impressing the idea of barbed wire. Darkness filled the whole room and the doorknob rattled again, harder this time, but the door and lock were solid, no one would get in.

_Johnny rosin up your bow and play your fiddle hard. 'Cause hells broke loose in Georgia and the devil deals the cards. And if you win you get this shiny fiddle made of gold. But if you lose, the devil gets your soul._

Stepping back to his chair, the demon looked at the man. He was bent over and held a hand to his face. His hair caused shadows to appear, and made his expression unreadable.

_ The devil opened up his case and said, "I'll start this show."_

With contempt the demon said, "Let us begin," and he took out his violin. It was stained dark red, the color of dried blood. "I'll go first."

_And fire flew from his fingertips as he rosined up his bow. And he pulled the bow across his strings and it made an evil hiss. Then a band of demons joined in and it sounded something like this._

When the demon pulled his bow across the strings, other instruments joined in though their players could not be seen. The music he played was otherworldly, and had never been heard by mortal ears before. It stroke terror in the hearts of lesser beings, but the man only leaned back in his chair calmly, with his hands folded over his violin and bow. He had recovered swiftly from the shock of receiving the seal.

_When the devil finished, Johnny said, "Well you're pretty good ole son, but sit down in that chair right there and let me show you how its done._

While the last notes died away the demon sat down and waited for the man to start. Saying nothing, the man stood up, smoothly brought the violin to his shoulder, and played.

_Fire on the mountain, run boys, run._

_The devil's in the house of the risin' sun._

_Chicken in the bread pan, pickin' out dough._

_Granny does you dog bite?_

_No, child, no._

The man played beautifully, it would bring tears to the composer's eyes if he heard the man perform his piece.

_ The devil bowed his head because he knew that he'd been beat. He laid that golden fiddle at Johnny's feet. Johnny said, "Devil just come on back if you ever want to try again. I told you once you son of a gun, I'm the best that's ever been."_

The demon was in awe since the first few notes of the song were played. Any anger and shame that might have been felt for losing to a human was washed out by respect, respect and a little bit of fear. For here was a man that could go up against a demon, and win, with no signs of agitation.

The seal that marked the man flared once more and disappeared, while a copy of it, on the demon, did the same.

"I concede defeat." The demon uttered, "When you have died I will search out your child and do as you have asked."

"Thank you." Was the reply, as if the man asked for a simple favor from a friend, instead of dealing with a demon.

"What will the name of your child be?" The demon asked.

The man did not hesitate in telling the demon now that he had won the bet, "Ciel Phantomhive."

As the demon floating away he could hear the strains of a song following him, and he pictured the confident smile of the man who beat him, and the bottomless darkness of his eyes. Quietly, he smirked.

_And he played_

_Fire on the mountain, run boys, run._

_The devil's in the house of the risin' sun. _

_Chicken in the bread pan, pickin' out dough._

_Granny will your dog bite?_

_No, child, no._


End file.
